Lights Out!
by AnimeDawn
Summary: Power outages are a normal occurrence in our everyday lives. But what if you happened to be a member of the Varia - perhaps more specifically, Belphegor and Fran - when the lights got dark? Life is anything but 'normal' for this group, so things can only get a little dicey, if not steamy...


The flame of the candle flickered, casting spindly shadows all along the walls of Fran's bedroom. The Varia illusionist sat cross-legged on his bed, tilting his book towards the dim, unsteady light. Fran didn't normally prefer to read by candlelight; he had to pick through the words carefully and slowly, painstakingly so, since such a meagre amount of illumination was barely enough to see his own hand in front of his face. But, even in the face of such difficulties, he was determined to keep reading his novel. Why? There were two major reasons for this endeavor – one, it was a terrific book, a truly interesting and absorbing read; and two, the stupid fake prince was bored beyond belief and Fran required much distraction from him. It was always the same when the power went out in town. Every time, the Varia members would go stir crazy, and every time, Belphegor would be the worst of the bunch. He wasn't entirely sure why that was, but then again he didn't really care as long as the blonde took his chaotic mischief somewhere else – maybe to Lusseria's room or something. However, today he was being subjected to the prince's manic boredom, and there was simply no getting rid of him.

So, in a last ditch effort to ignore Bel, Fran had reached for one of his all time favorite books, Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion. It wasn't one of the thickest books he had ever read, but it was definitely a book that pulled him out of his often depressing reality and tossed him head over heels into a fictional one. An apocalyptic zombie and Boney-filled universe happened to be much more horrifying than fighting in the mafia, but whatever; the book had a good message.

On average, with access to the normal lighting of his bedroom, it took the illusionist a day or two at most to complete a book of this size. In the dark, with only a tiny point of light to rely on and Bel breathing down his neck, it took him an hour to skim one page of the same book. Yet every page that he managed to finish made him feel like he had emerged victorious in a ten mile run across the desert; and so here he sat, hanging on every single word as if the world would explode if he did otherwise. It was hard to do that, though, when a certain prince was doing everything humanly possible to redirect Fran's attention from the plight of R and Julie onto himself instead.

Bel leaned over the large, rounded candle that Fran was using to read, and he looked up briefly from his book to catch the self-proclaimed prince heating something over the pointed flame. Shadows danced across his face, shrouding his mischievously gleaming smile in darkness.

"Senpai, what are you doing now?" he asked disinterestedly, returning his gaze to the page. He had placed his index finger on the last sentence he'd read so that he wouldn't lose his place, and now he began to fractionally move it along the paper as he continued on from that spot.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Frog."

Fran sighed inwardly. When Bel-senpai said he was doing nothing, which was always worse than when he said he was doing anything, it made him feel slightly concerned about his own safety. Still, he kept his eyes on his novel. If anything happened, his illusions would most likely take the brunt of it for him.

"You had better not be doing something that will put out my candle, or I'll kill you."

Bel sniggered, and Fran was sorely tempted to try to kick him out of his room. Why had he let him in here, anyway? Oh, that's right, he didn't _let_ him in. Bel had just barged in, unannounced, and begun to pester him constantly all on his own. In fact, as soon as all the lights had flickered, dimmed and then gradually faded out, he had shown up; not even a minute had passed before Fran's door had been kicked down by the prince. This wasn't the first time the annoyingly boisterous blonde had torn the illusionist's door off of its hinges, but it was getting tiresome to have to fix it every five minutes.

"Yeah right, Froggy. Dream on," came the overly cheerful response. Fran could hear a soft hissing sound coming from beside him, the whispering of hot metal. He flipped to the next page casually, deciding to ignore it.

"I could kick your ass any day of the week and twice on Sunday."

"May-be," Bel chirped, turning something hot and smoking over in his hand. It smelled horrendous, but Fran was firmly engrossed in his novel and had determined not to let anything ruin his concentration for more than a moment. "But that doesn't mean that the stupid Frog has the skill to kill the prince. Be realistic for a change... Ushishi..."

"Leave me alone, fake prince," Fran muttered, squinting at his book as Bel's shadowed figure temporarily blocked the light. "Take your smoking scrap of metal with you."

In an instant, as Fran had anticipated, the 'scrap of metal' had become deeply rooted in his right arm. There hadn't even been the slightest warning, but that was the prince's way. Rarely did he give any sign that he was about to strike. Fran sighed in annoyance (like this hadn't happened a million times before...) and placed his book down beside him on the bed. Bel's uniquely curved knife was proceeding to burn a smouldering hole in his jacket, and when Fran tried to grab it and pull it out, he ended up burning his hand instead. He didn't cry out, didn't even wince although the pain should have been nearly unendurable; such was the skill of the emotionless illusionist.

"Ow..." he said flatly, staring at the blisters forming in self defence on his left hand. "Now look what you've done. This was my favorite jacket, moron-senpai. I should set fire to your wardrobe and see if you like it."

Bel crossed his arms and frowned, disgruntled, back at his young partner. Fran knew that his lack of an appropriate response was what egged Bel on. The blonde slashed, stabbed and clobbered the youth to a pulp on a regular daily basis, just to see if he would shout or snivel from the sting of it; he would do this repeatedly and relentlessly, and it was a million times worse when he was in a foul mood. Fran had grown used to such behavior from the crazed killer, but had often wondered what Bel would do if he actually did wince, or cry out, or react in any other way than his usual blandness and disregard. Would he feel guilty, or would he grow bored of his usual shenanigans and try something else, something more violent? Fran was sure that he would never find out, since he had committed long ago to remaining detached from his emotions. But even so, these thoughts nagged at him while he listened to the prince utter his death threats – as he did every time Fran failed to satisfy his lust for blood.

"If a peasant like the Frog touched the prince's clothes, the prince would have no choice but to behead him," he replied with the breeziness of a practiced killer. This didn't produce the desired effect, though. Fran simply stared at Bel like he was one of the more distasteful teachers at a high school.

"What are you, a dunce? You aren't related to any medieval kings, moron-senpai. Beheading is so last century. Can't you come up with any more creative ways to kill people?"

"The prince might be willing to test a bunch of new techniques on you if you don't shut up, peasant-frog."

Fran was about to retort right back at his senpai when the candle went out. The wax had melted down into a watery puddle around the wick, coating it in a thin film that had snuffed the flame out entirely. _Damn, _he thought, _I had just come up with a really good burn too, and now I can't even see Bel-senpai's reaction. _Suddenly the gravity of the situation dawned on him. He was sitting in the total darkness of his room with a psychopathic blonde, who was enthusiastically waiting for his chance to make his insolent partner produce some blood, _and _he couldn't read his book anymore. This day couldn't possibly get any worse.

_So this is how it ends... Trapped in a dark room with a stupid idiot who handles anything sharp like a throwing knife and slits throats as if it's second nature to him. I can't even see my hand in front of my __face__. How am I supposed to defend myself if I can't see him coming?_

"Bel-senpai, you wouldn't happen to have another candle on you?"

There was no answer as the silence thickened in the room. Fran sat motionless, tense; ready to counter the blonde's every move with illusions that were lingering in readiness at the back of his mind. But, after the long period of time in which he sat there unduly overwrought, at last he had to assume that Bel had either left his room or was watching him from the deepest crevices of the surrounding blackness. The first thought was more comforting, but it was more than likely that the second thought was actually true. Fran shook his head sympathetically at himself. It was like dealing with a murderous toddler day in and day out... an extremely smart murderous toddler. He was starting to make himself uneasy with these unsettling thoughts. Why couldn't he look on the bright side for once?

"Senpai?" he called, wondering if he sounded as confident as he knew he should sound. "Are you even here anymore, or did you run away? If you're trying to ambush me, it won't work. I'm more than prepared for whatever you can do."

"Shishishi..."

Bel's unmistakable laugh cut through the inky murkiness like one of his impossibly sharp knives, putting Fran instantly on edge. Whatever the prince was planning, he had to ensure that he was a few steps ahead each time. One slip up could mean death when you were playing these kinds of games with Bel. His eyes scanned the room cautiously, and he was able to make out a few shapes as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of his bedroom. There was his chair, his bookshelf, and he was sitting on the bed... nope, Bel wasn't sitting on it with him. Fran swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a relieved breath. Why was he getting so worked up about this anyway? He could totally handle the prince in a fight... or at least, his illusions could. If it came to blows he'd lose hands down, but it wouldn't get that dicey. He hoped it wouldn't. No... Of course it wouldn't... right?

_God, at least try to think positive once in a while, Fran, _he thought with a face palm.

Then it occurred to him. People's eyes don't adjust in absolute darkness, not unless there's some kind of light source nearby. So that meant that there had to be a room somewhere in the building with its lights on. Maybe he could go and hide in there for a while until Bel had calmed down... ahem, or he could lure the prince there and totally kick his ass. Yeah, _sure_...

Once he was absolutely 100% convinced that Bel wasn't standing right beside him, or anywhere else in the room for that matter, Fran stood and stepped warily into the stillness of the hallway. He tossed a glance over his shoulder. The corridor was as black as the seafloor, and equally as peaceful. Then he turned back to scan the area ahead of him, and realized that there was a slight glow at the furthest end of the hall. With slow, maddeningly echoing footsteps, he crept towards it, his body unconsciously taut from the expectation of being inevitably waylaid by the prince. He leaned his right arm against the wall briefly as he checked for signs of Bel near him and felt a slight twinge of pain. It was then he suddenly remembered the burning hot knife that was stuck there. He reached over and pulled it out with the same level of precision he used on all the countless knives Bel had tossed at him over the years. Its metal had cooled enough for him to handle it without singeing his skin, and although he wasn't versed in the art of throwing knives, he figured it couldn't be too hard to do. He kept it in hand, just in case he needed to use it as a last resort.

Fran could plainly see the door frame ahead of him now, with its soft luminance pouring forth into the hall, and his footsteps softened instinctively as he drew closer. He pressed his back against the wall and slid along the length of it, gripping Bel's knife tightly, until he was only a few inches away from the open doorway. He steadied himself, took a deep breath, and looked inside.

This was Bel's room; he recognized it right away by the posh furniture and other expensive items lying about, mostly clothing that he hadn't bothered to throw into the laundry hamper. Fran was a naturally clean person, so when he saw all of the articles of clothing strewn about on the floor, coating the backs of armchairs and couches (there were even a few socks dangling from the ceiling fan!), it made him want to just walk right in there and start picking things up. But he definitely wasn't Bel-senpai's maid, and he wasn't about to nominate himself for that kind of promotion either. Bel's messes were legendary, and he didn't want to be responsible for taking care of that too.

Speaking of the self-proclaimed prince, he was lying on his stomach on the massive canopy bed at the far end of the room as the lights shone in all their luminescent glory – there were no candles to be seen here. Bel's legs swung casually in the air while he watched his little storm mink frolic adorably on the mattress. The long white body of the creature (who looked uncannily like Bel himself) clambered around all over Bel's head with reckless abandon at regular intervals; once in a while his furry white tail would tickle the blonde's nose and he grinned whenever it happened. Fran had never seen his senpai so content, so calm... he almost seemed normal in this moment. Embarrassedly, he stepped out into the open, knife still in hand, and Bel, hearing the shuffling of feet, looked up at him with a lopsided smile.

"Ah, Froggy, you came to return the prince's knife! Unusually kind of you..." he said in greeting. The mink propelled himself off of Bel's head when he noticed the illusionist standing there. He sprinted energetically over towards Fran and scrambled up his leg, climbing and weaving in a spiral pattern all the way up until he reached the hand that held the knife. Fran was rigid, watching in bewilderment as Bel's mink sat on his forearm and regarded him with curiosity through the furry fringe covering his eyes. Fran half expected him to catch his sleeve on fire, which would have been an easy thing for the mink to do if he were so inclined. But the little creature merely snatched up the knife in his mouth and leapt to the floor, cantering back towards his master like a proud dog. He climbed up onto the mattress and brought the cooled knife to rest in Bel's outstretched palm before slinging his long body casually around the prince's neck.

"When did you leave?" Fran asked after a moment of stunned silence. Bel shrugged, his fingertip playing with the tip of his knife idly.

"The prince left a while ago. It was starting to get _really _boring watching you read useless books, so when the candle died the prince went to occupy his time elsewhere."

"What the hell were you doing this whole time!?" the illusionist shouted, irked that he had spent so much time in a heightened state of panic for no reason. Bel smirked in response, his face a picture of dark humor, and flung the knife at a circular dartboard hanging on the wall. Faces were taped onto each scoring section on the board, all of them Varia members, and the one in the center was the one Bel hit. Dead center, right into the middle of Lusseria's smiling face. There were a lot of knife marks in that one.

"Playing tag," he answered simply. Fran gaped at him, but wasn't all that surprised. He could only imagine what kind of tag Bel was keen on playing, and if Bel was it... there would be no escaping that deadly aim. As he rolled his eyes and looked over at the dartboard again, the illusionist noticed that his face was nowhere to be seen. He quickly searched the room for a picture of him with little knife slits in it and he found one, but it was neatly framed and seemed to be in immaculate condition. _Not a single scratch on it at all...? Odd... _He cocked an eyebrow as Bel continued in an easy tone. "Luss, Squalo and the boss were easy to tag, but they weren't eager to play with the prince. Such boring peasants just like Froggy."

Fran thought of his senpai tossing a flurry of knives at a squealing Lusseria while shouting, "Tag, you're it!" and he had to fight to repress a grin. It wasn't that he hated Luss, but... well, okay, maybe he hated him a little. Mostly he thought that the overly flamboyant Varia member was irritating, nosy as hell, and deserved to be pelted by the prince's knives. So if he walked by Lusseria's room one day and discovered the guy pinned to a wall by Bel's knives again (which had happened more often than not), he would probably feel less sympathy for him than others might and go on his way, totally pretending that he hadn't seen a thing.

It was funny how, even in imaginings, Belphegor could be fairly entertaining when he wasn't busy making the illusionist's life miserable. But now that he thought about it... aside from recieving all the punches and becoming Bel's personal pincushion, the time he spent in the prince's company really wasn't all that terrible... He was definitely a rowdy individual that liked to meddle in Fran's affairs, whether they were important or not, but he never did anything too destructive. He took care of Fran (in his own twisted way) and wouldn't let anybody do anything awful to him, unless he was the one doing it. Always their missions were filled with humorous banter, back and forth, and Fran did enjoy it. Bel rarely ever had any good comebacks to top his, and that made him feel good about himself and his sharp wit. And every single time Fran had something to eat with strawberries or that tasted like strawberry – pop tarts, ice cream, anything edible – Bel would always wait until he wasn't looking and sneak a bite, even though the youth was only feigning his surprise when he looked back to see half of his food was missing. The prince could be infuriating at times... yeah, he was infuriating a lot. Nevertheless, Fran found himself experiencing this sudden wave of fondness towards Bel, kind of like a person who is attached to their dog; only, deep down, Fran knew it was more than that.

Now the blonde had rolled onto his back, disturbing the mink and forcing him to curl up beside his master as an alternative. Bel's head hung loosely over the foot of the bed and his arms were folded behind it. His smirk morphed into an upside down grimace.

"Why? Does Froggy want to play tag too?"

"No."

"The prince should have known..." Bel replied with a sigh. "Froggy has always been, and always will be, lacklustre."

Whatever semblance of patience Fran had been holding onto during this entire conversation was waning. He pointed up at the lights irritably.

"How did you get your lights working, stupid senpai?" he demanded.

"Now, now Frog; don't be rude or the prince will stab you," Bel stated with a grin that stretched across his face like an elastic.

"Just tell me already!"

"The prince was smart enough to build an emergency generator for such days after the last power outage. There hasn't been an opportunity to test it out until now, though," he explained, flipping back onto his stomach and placing his palms on his chin, grinning smugly at Fran. "Too bad Froggy's not that smart! You could have been halfway through that tedious book of yours by now, shi!"

This was the grating part of Bel's personality that always managed to rub Fran the wrong way. It's difficult to have a pleasant conversation with somebody when they're always assuming you're so much dumber than they are. And Bel had a habit of doing this constantly - especially to Fran. Since his curiosity had been fully sated, Fran turned on his heel and was about to leave without another word when he remembered an agonizing fact that hindered his plans significantly. He had no candles to read by in his room! The last one he'd been using went out, and he didn't have any others to replace it with. He didn't have a flashlight anymore either. A certain someone had come into his room, per the norm, during the last blackout, and had broken the damn thing... Said 'someone' _still _hadn't replaced it, like he said he would... Stupid senpai. Without realizing it, he chewed on his lip in annoyance. Asking Bel if he could stay here and read wasn't an option. He also didn't want to ask the moronic prince if he could borrow a candle – he wasn't quite that desperate yet. So the illusionist paused in the doorway, considering his options as he gnawed unmercifully on his lip. Before he could come to any real conclusions, Bel's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"You're leaving already, Froggy? So no tag then, not even one short round?"

Fran sighed heavily and turned to face Bel to say no for the umpteenth time in his life, but something stopped him; caught him completely off guard, actually. The prince's usual manic smile had disappeared, and he was frowning at the illusionist. Was that loneliness in his voice? Was the psycho prince of death... lonely? Fran blinked twice, his mouth still slightly open, partially forming his response of 'no'; but he couldn't bring himself to finish that word. As he stared at his senpai, who was gazing back at him with such a terribly pleading expression, a strange emotion deep within his heart flowered and blossomed, newly awakened yet not unfamiliar; it stirred to life instantly and almost made him gasp with the rapidity of it. This was something similar to the fondness he had felt only moments ago, but was way more powerful than that. For reasons he couldn't possibly explain, seeing Bel miserable made him feel like somebody had dealt him a mortal blow. The air had been knocked out of his lungs, and it took a moment for him to remember that he could breathe. Was is hot in here, or was it just him...?

"Bel-senpai... I suck at tag..." the illusionist replied instead, at length. The mink stretched his tiny limbs tranquilly; he was completely oblivious to the moment the pair were sharing, and had scrambled atop the prince's head again. He curled up into a tight ball inside the gleaming crown and Fran could see the white body wiggle slightly with Bel's every movement, including the noncommittal shrug that he now offered the youth.

"Fine then, the prince will think of something else."

"But... why would you even want to do anything with me, senpai?" Fran asked, his eyes searching Bel's face for any kind of explanation. "Why don't you just go bug Luss or the boss, like you usually do?"

"They aren't like you, Frog. Besides, what kind of prince would abandon his froggy partner for someone else?"

The answer came instantly, like it hadn't even taken a second thought. Fran went quiet. He hoped mightily that he could maintain his composure long enough to keep his heated cheeks from showing. He hadn't been expecting that, not at all; but secretly it thrilled him to think that Bel-senpai thought he was special, that there was nobody else out there who could replace him; he was his partner, and only his... and now that he had blown the whole sentence - said in complete innocence, no doubt - out of proportion, he was flustered.

"You're the only prince in the world with a Frog, Bel-senpai. And I'm not actually – "

Bel waved off the answer and interrupted him hotly. "Whatever, you know what the prince means. See why the prince never talks like this around you? The moment is destroyed thanks to your incessant prattling!"

Fran allowed a slight smile to slip onto his face, and the prince was completely ignorant of it. He snatched his mink off of his head and held him out at arm's length in front of his face. The mink's limbs dangled limply while he hung in the air.

"Can you believe that Frog?" he asked the mink, who only responded by cocking his head to one side and twitching an ear. "He just doesn't know when to shut up and appreciate the moment, does he?"

Fran, who was chuckling to himself the whole time, walked up to his partner and tentatively reached out to scratch the little mink behind the ears. They both watched as the mink didn't shy away, or try to bite or set fire to the illusionist, but instead leaned happily into the touch. Fran had had a sneaking suspicion that he would react that way; but Bel turned towards him, awe quite plainly showing on his face, and at last saw the small, tender smile that was meant for him.

"I might not be very emotional, or reveal my true thoughts and desires very often... but I do appreciate things," he said, casting a quick sidelong glance at the prince. "Even you, Bel-senpai. Especially you."

It was amusing to see the brief reddening of Bel's cheeks before he turned away with a 'che'. The mink wasn't pleased however, and chattered in protest when his master spontaneously tugged him away from the boy's magic touch. Fran noticed the uncharacteristically shy response from the blonde and grinned, coming up behind him and gently slipping his arms around his waist. He could feel Bel's muscles tense from the unexpected contact, but after a few moments he visibly relaxed. Soon the prince was leaning into his embrace, just like his mink had done. _It's so funny how alike those two are, _Fran thought with a chuckle. Bel's mink chattered again in complaint and jumped out of the prince's hands, his nose held high in the air as he stalked off towards his sleeping place on the bed. Bel didn't even seem to notice.

"You know, my mink doesn't just let any peasant pet him..." he said quietly.

"I kind of guessed that from your incredulous expression," Fran replied as he rested his face close against the back of his senpai's neck. Contentment flowed through his body and soul as every breath he exhaled caused Bel to shiver with anticipation.

"You must be something special, Frog..." Bel muttered in a deep, low rumble that shook the illusionist to his very core.

"You tell me, senpai..."

Bel turned around in Fran's arms to face him, his expression unreadable. There was no way to guess anything about the prince's thoughts when being confronted with such a straight-faced look. Fran swallowed his fear and his hands travelled, slowly and purposefully, upwards until his arms were loosely draped about Bel's neck. He found himself wishing that he could see the blonde's eyes, even if it was only for an instant. No doubt they were speaking volumes right now. Anxiety began to well up within him like a freshwater spring. Here he was, with his arms slung around the neck of his maddening prince, and there could be no turning back from the yes or no answer. They were teetering on the edge of an emotionally indecisive precipice, and the moment of truth was upon them. Today, here and now, the prince would either return his love, or Fran would be forced to live with the crushing certainty of his blatant refusal. His heart was beating against his ears, in tune with the most sickly sweet love song that sprang to mind, and drowning out all other rational thought or any other sounds for that matter. _God, this is tormenting! _But then, something happened that neither of them had planned for.

Right at that instant, when Bel's face showed a certain determination that proved that he had made some kind of decision, just as he moved his slender arms to encircle Fran's hips, leaning in for the kill, their lips mere inches apart... the power flicked back on. A loud buzz, a few flickers, and then all of the lights in the building hummed back to life. The fleeting moment had passed them by, its magical solemnity sullied by the joyous whoops of the other Varia members outside in the hall. Bel turned his head abruptly to the hallway and stared with a deep frown at the unexpected distractions. Whatever he had been about to do, he was no longer going to do it, Fran realized with rising disappointment in his heart.

Then they heard it - the resounding squeal that always announced a certain Varia member's presence in the room. Someone was fast approaching them, someone loud, boisterous... and extremely annoying, even more so than the prince himself. Bel stared up at the roof and cursed loudly, then looked at Fran just in time to see him groan miserably, a rare slip of the emotionless mask.

"Please, please... don't let him show up. Not now..." Bel heard the illusionist plead under his breath. But it was too late.

"Oh! Fran-chan, Bel-chan! The power is back!" Lusseria sang as he bounded into the room, arms uplifted like an opera singer. He looked like he was about to say more (much, much more) when he stopped himself. He took a good look at them, such a good look that he actually tilted his shades down to regard them with an amazed stare. Fran and the prince, standing in each other's arms, only a hair's breadth apart. Could it truly be...? Luss's eyes travelled from one to the other, then back again. Fran's normally blank face showed an expression of pure consternation at being discovered – worst of all, by that guy!

"Oh my... am I interrupting something important?" Lusseria asked, his tone innocent but his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"As a matter of fact – " Fran began, his irritation showing itself more and more vividly. Before he could finish, Luss squealed with glee and clapped his hands. He shoved his sunglasses back onto his face, positively beaming.

"Am I the very first one to witness _the _first kiss!? Such delicious, raw emotion! I love it!" he exclaimed, tears of joy forming in the corners of his eyes. _Was he expecting this the whole damned time!? _Fran thought angrily. Bel looked exasperated and was growing steadily more irate as time passed. Fran's mouth opened and snapped shut a few times as he tried to get out the proper words to explain how badly he wanted to wring Lusseria's neck before he could utter another bubbly sentence.

"So, Bel, Fran, I'm sure you both understand the benefits and the slight risks of... this type of relationship," Luss was saying as the duo gaped in dumbfounded irritation at him. He popped up in between them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "I just want to remind you both that protection is important – "

A muscle twitched in Bel's jaw and before anything else could be said, knives were sailing down the hallway after the Varia member.

"I was only trying to help!" he cried as he rounded the corner, ducking behind it just in time. Ten knives hit the wall where Lusseria had been not two seconds ago. Bel shook his head in silence once he was gone, and slammed his door shut, locking it tightly behind him. The last thing they needed was an encore of Luss. When he turned back to Fran, he was sitting on the edge of Bel's bed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That guy... there is something seriously wrong with him..." the illusionist said, falling back onto the mattress with a sigh. "How does he always manage to show up at the worst possible times, whether you want him to or not? He's like a reaper... an extremely happy reaper!"

Bel shrugged and sat down beside the youth, on his left.

"Luss is a weirdo. The prince has no idea how his sick mind operates," he replied with a slightly perplexed expression of his own. Fran then turned his head to look up at his senpai, sheer relief on his face.

"I am so glad you're nothing like him, Bel-senpai." His hand absentmindedly reached out and held that of Bel's, squeezing it gently. The prince noticed this and genuinely smiled, squeezing back. "I mean... you piss me off a lot, but... I'd almost forgotten how incredibly awful Luss is. You're nowhere near as weird as him and if you were... and I was stuck with you as my partner..."

"The prince would end both of our existences before we had time to suffer," the blonde replied, his tone shameless. Fran grinned and chuckled.

"Thank you, senpai. That's a nice thought."


End file.
